You're The One I Need
by sherbett
Summary: Dean is sick and not even Castiel is able to heal him.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** You're The One I Need  
**Disclaimer:** I don't not own Supernatural or any of the characters.  
**Pairing/Characters:** Sam, Dean/Castiel eventually  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** Dean is sick and while Sam is out Castiel drops by. Castiel tries to heal Dean and fails.  
**Notes:** More will be added soon.

Dean sighs as the coldness spreads from the damp washcloth on his forehead down through his face and neck, offering a relief from the burning. It's always been his opinion that being sick is the worst.

"This sucks!" Dean groans angrily for about the hundredth time.

Sam just sighs and replaces the washcloth with a fresh one, offering some more relief. Dean's been like this for days, consistently refusing to see a doctor. Apparently flying isn't the only fear Sam didn't know about. Sam had been beyond relief when Deans temperature had lowered a few degrees, to Dean it doesn't feel any different. His head still feels like it's been run over by a truck, which then reversed over his throat. He can't even breathe through his nose because it's too blocked. Each breath scrapes over his sore throat in an agonising way. He can't remember the last time he was sick, probably when he was little.

Sam turns back towards the TV, watching whatever horrible day time show is on. Dean tries to move into a seated position, hoping to stare at something other than the ceiling for once. As soon as he moves he starts to feel dizzy and he can see the striped wallpaper moving from side to side in a sickening way. Not so sure moving is a good idea he falls back into the pillows, letting out a sigh that burns. Looking up at the ceiling he starts to count the dots even though he already knows exactly how many there are; 325. He can hear the murmurings from the TV, nothing of value. A daytime soap. He starts to get sleepy at around 112 dots and by 114 his eyes are closed.

He wakes some time later, the sun shining through the windows replaced by stars. He tries once again to sit, glad when he doesn't experience any head spinning. He spots Sam spread out on the other bed, deep in sleep. _Sleep well Sammy_, he thinks. He knows he would be pretty much screwed without Sam. His fear of doctors would stop him from getting medical help and he would end up just laying here until he died. Sam had even used his fake medical badge to get some medicine for him.

Deans mouth is full of a horrible taste as he tries to stand and get some water. He feels slightly better after the drink, but the horrible taste is still there. He pops a grape flavoured throat lozenge in as he moves towards the couch, watching the late night movie. It doesn't take him long to drift off again.

------

He wakes to the feeling of cold relief once again. Sam must have woken up. He opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the bright light, to see Sam sitting next to him, looking worried.

"Hey" Sam's voice is soft, but it has an underlying tone of anxiety. Dean hopes he doesn't look _that_ bad.

"How are you feeling?"

"Well, crap" Dean doesn't feel like elaborating. He's been feeling like crap for days.

Sam replies with a grimace before saying "I have to go out for a little while. You need more medicine"

"I'll be fine, Sam" Dean rolls his eyes "I'll just watch some of this fantastic day time TV while you're gone" Even sick Dean loves to use sarcasm.

"Alright. I'll be back soon" Sam's gone within the minute, leaving Dean with nothing to do but actually watch TV. He flicks through the channels, trying to find something remotely interesting when he stumbles upon a documentary about an ancient tribe in Africa. He decides it's more interesting than a drama.

Before long he hears a knock on the door. "It's open" He calls out in the loudest voice he can manage, which makes his throat start to hurt all over again. He was pretty sure he hadn't heard Sam lock the door, but they didn't exactly have any friends here. He looks up as the door opens, surprised to see Castiel standing there. After closing the door behind him he moves towards Dean.

"Hi" Dean greets him.

"Something's different about you" As always, he doesn't even get a 'hello'.

"I'm sick" Dean explains, noticing that Castiels face gets slightly more confused looking.

"I have a cold. I'm ill. Fever, sore throat, etc." Dean continues, trying to make the angel understand.

Castiel simply moves towards him and raises his hand to Dean's forehead, closing his eyes as he places it there. Dean isn't sure what's going on, he's only seen Castiel do this when he was exorcising demons, or knocking people out. When Castiel takes his hand away and opens his eyes he appears even more puzzled.

"huh" is the only thing he says.

"Explanation, please?" Dean raises his eyebrows while he talks, moving over so Castiel can sit.

"Usually that heals. Something must be different about this cold of yours" Dean isn't sure how to feel; he has a freak cold that not even an angel can get rid of. At least he didn't waste time going to the doctors.

"So... why are you here?" Dean finally asks.

"Another problem with the seals. You don't appear to be in any condition to do anything though" Castiel turns towards the TV "What are these humans doing?" he asks as the documentary shows the tribe making a canoe.

"They would be making a canoe" Dean puts the washcloth back on his forehead and lays back. He can only just see Castiel looking at him. Dean is suddenly attacked by a coughing fit, so bad he has to keel over. When it ends Castiel hands him a glass of water in a surprisingly human gesture.

"Thanks" Dean manages after he chokes down the water.

He gets a simple nod in return.

Dean picks up a clean washcloth and places it on his throat, which aches from the coughing. He lays back once again, this time closing his eyes. When Castiel removes the washcloth and replaces it with his hand, giving Dean no warning, it scares the shit out of him, making his eyes suddenly pop open.

Castiel sighs and places the washcloth back on Dean's neck before he sits.

"Trying that healing thing again?" Dean has to ask.

"Yes"

Dean was surprised by how nice Castiels hand had felt against his neck, much better than the washcloth. _This is just weird,_ Dean tries to shake the thoughts from his mind, but he only manages to make his headache worse.

.....


	2. Chapter 2

_(Sorry to change to Castiel's POV all of a sudden. I'm guessing it must be pretty obvious that I completely fail when it comes to temperatures, especially in Fahrenheit. I changed it so it should be reasonable now. Sorry for that _ )_

By the time the documentary is finished Castiel is more confused than ever. He thinks that he probably should have payed a bit more attention to humans during his 2000 year existence. Especially because he still has no idea what that tribe had been doing. He turns his eyes away from the human names passing on the screen to check on Dean. His head is still back in the same position, but his eyes are staying closed for longer each time he blinks. He wonders why he cannot heal Dean's sickness. It's not like he's ever tried to heal an internal illness before, but he should be able to. He heals stab wounds for chrissake. His thoughts are interrupted by quite an annoying sound. He soon figures out that the sound is being emitted from Dean's phone. The screen displays "Sammy" as Castiel picks it up and the annoying noise continues. Unsure of what to do, as Dean's eyes have not opened for a while, Castiel tries his best to imitate what he has seen Dean do. He flips the phone open, raising it towards his head and holding it against his ear. He hears Sam's voice and answers with a 'Sam?'.

Sam stops mid sentence and after a short pause asks "Castiel? Why are you on Dean's phone? Where is Dean?"

"Dean appears to have fallen asleep. I heard his phone making a noise and now I am talking to you." Having never used a phone before, Castiel is confused as to why Sam sounds confused.

"Huh.... Well, I'll be back soon" Sam's sentence is followed by silence. Castiel holds the phone to his ear for a few minutes to make sure he doesn't miss anything important, completely unaware that Sam has ended the call. He turns back to Dean, whose unfocused eyes are staring in his direction.

"How do you feel?" Castiel's head tilts slightly to the side as he asks, his eyes showing concern.

"Super" Even Dean's voice has a lazy, tired and blocked up tone, with a hoarse edge.

"Sam said he would be back soon"

Castiel gets the feeling that Dean is trying to eye him suspiciously, and failing. "You talked to Sam?"

Castiel nods "on the phone".

"Ah" Dean drops the subject, not having enough energy to fight. His eyes start to slip closed again.

Castiel quickly crosses the room and picks the Winchester up, carrying him to the bed while ignoring his angry mumblings and half hearted protests. He lays him down as carefully as he can manage and places his hand on Dean's forehead once more, but is still puzzled by why he is unable to heal him. He thinks about this as he returns to the couch and flicks through the channels aimlessly.

He finds himself glancing at Dean a lot. It takes him at least half an hour of this glancing to decide he should just check on him. He didn't pull him from hell just to have him sent back there, after all. He stares at Dean's pale, sweat coated face, once again unsure of what to do. He eventually settles for placing his hand on Dean's forehead again, this time checking the temperature. The skin burns beneath his touch, and even though he has no frame of reference, human skin should not feel that hot. He picks up a nearby cloth, runs it under some cold water, and places it on Dean's forehead as he had seen it before.

Not knowing what else to do Castiel sits on the edge of the other bed. He can see that Dean is fighting even while he sleeps. Fighting memories, fighting human disease. His eyes dart around beneath their lids in a frantic way. Before long Castiel's thoughts turn to when he, in this vessel, first met Dean. Dean had thought he didn't deserve to be saved. Dean thinks he doesn't deserve anything. He can tell that Dean doesn't like what he sees when he looks in the mirror. He can see it in his eyes. It's the reasons behind these feelings that bugs him. He can't see why Dean would feel this way. I mean, he has people who care for him, such as Sam, he is a good person, no matter what he thinks and he helps people, he saves people. So why wouldn't he want to be saved?

"Humans" He scoffs under his breath.

Castiel ponders over these thoughts for what seems like hours. Sam eventually returns, carrying a box of various supplies. He looks surprised to see Cas there, despite their phone conversation. Sam pulls something from the box before moving to Dean's bedside.

"How's he been?" He asks as he places the instrument in Dean's mouth. It pokes out at an odd angle.

"He sleeps a lot but his temperature appears to be higher than usual" Sam looks mildly surprised at the answer, as if he wouldn't expect Castiel to know anything about temperature. Which he doesn't. They sit in awkward silence for a few minutes until Sam pulls the object out of Dean's mouth.

"103.7.... shit, shit, shit!"

"Ah" Castiel says quietly as he realises that object is used to measure human temperature. How handy.

Sam pulls a bunch of things from the bag until he finds a certain one. He gets a glass of water and gently shakes Dean awake.

"Saaaaaaaam" Dean complains, trying to roll over.

"Dean. You have to take the medicine. Your temperature is crazy high!" Sam urges until Dean opens his eyes and glares.

---------------------------

After Dean had taken the medicine and fallen asleep once more, Sam had sat at the table and watched his brother.

"He won't see a doctor" Sam states suddenly, turning slightly to look at Castiel.

"A... doctor?"

Sam sighs "Someone who will figure out what is wrong with him and make him better"

"Well, why not?" Castiel can't imagine anyone ever wanting to feel like Dean looks.

"Because he's stupid" Sam replies, not actually explaining anything.

Castiel wonders about this doctor person. How come they can fix Dean while he can't? A mere human able to do something an angel can't does not seem right. He starts to wonder how long he has been here, in the Winchesters motel room. Hours and hours by the looks of things. He's amazed that Uriel hasn't called him, they were trying to stop a seal from being broken after all. He shrugs off these thoughts, Uriel is more than capable of doing things by himself. And yet, something doesn't seem right.


	3. Chapter 3

Walking up to the door of the hotel room Uriel is currently occupying fills Castiel with sadness. As much as he loves his brother, he can be a little... well, boring and mean. The Winchesters were almost always more fun to hang out with. Their strange human customs. Still, it was about time he returned to Uriel and the work that needed to be done. He had decided to walk here, in order to waste time more than anything else, but he also liked to observe human behaviour. Sighing as he pushes open the door, he finds Uriel standing in the middle of the room, not looking happy at all.

"Where have you been?" Uriel demands in his deep voice.

"You know where I was. I had to tell the Winchesters of what's happening" Castiel is confused. Obviously Uriel had known that, he had told him before he left. So why did he seem so mad?

"What is it with you and those good-for-nothing Winchesters?" Uriel's words stung Castiel. They are the only humans he's ever spoken too, ever known. They offer a view of the world Castiel never knew about.

"How did the seal go?" He asks, trying to completely change the subject.

"Well, seeing as I had to do it by myself, I would say it went quite well."

"You knew where I was, you could have came to get me if you needed help" Castiel still doesn't understand why his brother is angry.

"I did try to call you. What took you so long anyway?" Uriel's words simply confuse Castiel more. Surely he would have heard it if he was calling? He had never missed a call before.

"It appears that Dean has fallen ill." Castiel explains.

Uriel simply sighs and returns to the table and whatever he was doing before. Castiel lays on his bed, thinking about the day's events. Firstly Dean was ill and was refusing to see someone who could help him, which is simply foolish. Secondly, he hadn't even known Uriel was calling him. Not calling him in the same way that Sam had called Dean's phone but calling in the way only angels call. If Uriel needs Castiel around, then Castiel automatically knows, as all angels have a connection. He had found it hard to explain to Dean when Dean had asked, seeing as it wasn't using thoughts or words. They would just know. Distance or location was never a problem. So why had he missed it this time?

He wonders over to the table to see what Uriel is doing. Reading some newspaper, nothing of interest. He moves back to the bed, flicking on the TV to pass the time. He settles for a program he thinks Dean would approve of as the actors are poor but there is no lack of drama or bare flesh.

****

It doesn't take him long to become bored. Still, he continues to watch the program and the few that follow it. He finds one of particular interest. It is about a building, which seems to be called a hospital that the doctors work at. Doctors of the same type as Dean needs. They wear white coats and perform various types of operations on people. Castiel can see no reason why these doctors should be able to heal Dean why he cannot, apart from the obvious fact that they have more knowledge of humans.

****

He knocks on the Winchesters door once more. This time he brought some pie. Dean loves pie. It takes a few minutes for Sam to answer and Castiel notes the pistol in his hand.

"I brought pie" Castiel says to Sam, although the fact is probably obvious.

Sam moves to the side, allowing him to enter the room. He glances around, Dean is still in the same position he was when he left, but he looks a lot worse. His breathing sounds painful, his lips are raw, his skin an unhealthy pale colour that almost has a green tinge. His eyes are open, but he shows no recognition of Castiel.

"It's actually good your here, I was going to get a doctor for him" Sam says before moving towards the door. "Try and keep his temperature down" Are the last words Castiel is able to hear.

Dean shudders, cold even beneath the layers of blankets that cover him. His eyes move slowly in Castiel's direction.

"Cas.... why are you... still here?" Dean swallows painfully, forcing each word out. His voice barely audible.

He frowns, Dean is obviously out of it. He gets a fresh glass of water and helps Dean into a slightly more seated position. Dean gulps down the water. Castiel checks his temperature with his hand again, but when he goes to move his hand away Dean whispers "no".

Casitel is confused but willing to oblige.

"I guess you weren't supposed to save me from the pit after all"

"Dean... you are foolish. You need to see a doctor. I did not pull you from the depths just to have you sent back there. You do not belong there"

"Sure I don't" Dean rolls his eyes.

"I know how you feel about yourself Dean. You are foolish for that too. You would not have been saved if you weren't deserving. You are a good person"

"Is that why you come here so often?" Dean asks weakly.

"Yes. You are an interesting human" Castiel doesn't want to reveal the real reason he is always here. Why he feels the need to always watch Dean. To be around him.

"Interesting.... and good looking?" Dean mocks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, I suppose so. More than a quite a few of the humans I have seen" Castiel hopes that Dean won't notice the redness creeping up his cheeks.

"You didn't steal a bad human yourself. You should see the way some of the chicks look at you. If only it wasn't for that damned trench coat"

"What's wrong with the coat?" Castiel has never minded the coat. It is a possession of his vessel and should be respected.

"It's just... take it off for a sec"

Castiel slips the trench coat from his shoulders for the first time. He never realised how much the thing weighed.

"Better" Dean nods.

Castiel looks down. It seems weird without the tan coat, but it's definitely something he could get used to. He shrugs and places his hand back on Dean's forehead. He suddenly presses his lips against Deans, not entirely sure of what's happening. Dean's eyes shoot open and Castiel can see the confusion and surprise in the green depths. He pulls away quickly, still not knowing why that happened.

"Whaaaaaa?" Dean's facial expression hasn't changed at all.

"I have no idea.... I apologise" Castiel mumbles, moving his hand from Dean's forehead and walking towards the door. He quickly leaves, only just hearing Dean call "You'll probably get sick now! Cas, come back."

Not at all in the mood for walking, Castiel hesitates before appearing next to Dean's bed. He stands looking at the ground and he can tell his face is red. It surprises him when Dean moves slowly onto his knees, leaning in he whispers "definitely better without the goddamn coat" before kissing him. Castiel has to support most of Dean's weight, especially as Dean is sick. But he doesn't mind. Still, it doesn't take long for him to push Dean back into bed and order "Sleep! Sam went to get a doctor". He grins cheekily at the look on Dean's face at the mention of a doctor.

Dean scowls, but begrudgingly listens. He's barely able to keep his eyes open, having already used his tiny amount of energy.


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor came and the doctor left. She had prescribed Dean some medication looking a lot like the one Sam had already acquired. Castiel hadn't failed to notice the looks Dean had given her. There was no hint of fear in his eyes; instead they were filled with something Castiel couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that had made him experience a mix of emotions he had never felt before. He was sure Dean had never looked at _him_ like that.

And the medicine had made Dean better. It had worked. He had been well enough to eat and go out. He had looked so much better with a grin lighting up his face. But then his fever had returned. Higher than before, but not by much. He had gone back to resting for most of the day and Castiel had been contended to sit by him. He was joined by Sam a lot and it was no longer awkward between the two of them.

Still, Dean's condition had continued to worsen for days. Until it had gotten to the stage it's at now, where it can't seem to get any worse.

Castiel tries not to wince as Dean reaches for a tissue, the soft paper dragging along his scarred, red nose. His lips are cracked from being able to breathe through only his mouth and his dull green eyes move slowly around. Castiel often notices Dean looking in his direction, although he is unsure of how much he can see.

Dean moves his hands and tries to push himself into a seated position. Castiel quickly places a hand under each shoulder, easing him up. It's horrible for Castiel to see Dean like this and be unable to help. His powers should be able to heal something as simple as this! The medicine should have healed Dean. It's agonising to sit here hour after hour and watch Dean struggle with the simple task of breathing. He often finds himself placing his hand on Deans forehead again and again without any conscious effort. Trying over and over to heal him, and failing.

***************

Time passes with barely any notice. Castiel is unable to think of anything but Dean. Hoping, praying that he will be alright. That things can go back to normal. He doesn't notice when it grows dark outside, or when the sun rises again.

He does notice when Dean coughs. The way it sounds so painful. He notices the way Deans face is always covered with a shiny layer, his skin always warmer than it should be. He notices, and he worries.

"Caaaas" Dean moans quietly.

Castiel's head whips up at the sound of Dean's voice - something he hasn't heard for days.

"You don't have to sit there. You... can leave"

"You want me to go?" Castiel frowns.

"No," Dean pauses "At least don't sit so far away"

Castiel moves the short distance to the bed, sitting on the edge by Dean's feet.

"That's a little better" Dean says without even opening his eyes.

Dean then sinks back into sleep, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. He touches the Eldest Winchesters hand, leaning over to do so. He once again notices the over warm temperature.

***************

It takes him a while, longer then it usually would, to realise that Dean's breathing sounds hoarser. With a quick hand to the forehead he also realises that Dean's temperature is slightly higher. He gets up and quickly covers the distance to Sam's bed. He gently shakes Sam awake.

"Sam, it's Dean" is all that is needed. He can see the fear flicker through Sam's eyes as he tries to hide his own.


	5. Chapter 5

"What? What is it?!" Sam doesn't even wait for an answer, but is across the room in a few strides. Checking Dean's temperature. His panicked movements show his fear. He can't go through losing his brother again, he won't survive, won't make it. Not twice.

"Shit, we have to get you to a hospital, man" Sam says, trying to shake him awake softly.

"... hospital?!" Dean practically whispers, "Would rather die." A small smile lighting up his face. He doesn't mean it, they all know that. But Dean has to do something, and talking is just about all he can manage. It's the one small thing he can do to make himself believe that he'll get through this. To make Sam and Cas believe. He needs to get through this.

"Your brother is right, Dean. It was foolish to wait this long in the first place." Sam shoots Castiel a grateful look, Dean seems to listen to him a little more.

"And that is all the say you get. We're going." Sam adds a "now" when Dean looks like he's going to complain. Complain in a whisper that he can barely manage. This is the guy Sam's looked up too his whole life. The one who beat up the kids picking on Sam and who taught Sam pretty much everything he knew. Reduced to a whisper, by a cold. A cold that Castiel can't even heal. An angel of the freaking lord can't heal this cold. _Yeah, it's definitely time for the hospital._

"Help me move him into the car?" He asks Castiel. With two of them carrying it'll cause less strain.

"I think it will be quicker if I use my...angel mojo." Castiel half asks.

"I can come right back and get you" He has to assure Sam, "You have all the fake information" Not that he approves of the constant lies they tell the authorities. But, it works for Dean and it's exactly what they need right now. Things to work for Dean.

Sam gives a quick nod and watches as Castiel takes Dean in his arms and, after a brief glance, disappears completely.

***

Dean's body is not heavy. To Castiel it feels lighter than it should, as if the sickness is hollowing out his very insides. Light and very warm. Much, much warmer than it should be, and he finds himself pushing his wings faster. He very much wants to wipe Dean's forehead, remove all the sweat and offer whatever comfort he can. But he is unable to use his hands, so he plants a small kiss there instead.


End file.
